


Cars

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Series: Fictober 2019 [25]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cars, Case Fic, Gen, Humor, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-17 10:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21266027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: Mulder and Scully receive a case involving cars that kill people, seemingly of their own accord and for no reason. Can they find out who or what is behind all this?
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Fictober 2019 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532195
Kudos: 6





	Cars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msrafterdark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msrafterdark/gifts).

> I started this in 2015 I believe and... I bet it will take a couple more years before it gets finished.  
Planning to have each chapter named after a famous car.

Somewhere in middle America, there was a town. It was an unremarkable town in every way, in that nothing ever really happened there. It was the kind of town you grew up and left, and those who stayed behind were left frozen in time. Until there was a large bang, and this was the moment that everything in this town would change, and not for the better. The sound was like a large explosion and tore through the silence of the town causing everyone to look out the window. There was nothing to see in the deep darkness of the night, and after a couple of minutes, their heads pulled back into the confines of their homes.

Except one. Richard Moisely.

His name was not important though. He made his way outside, shotgun slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and a cigar dangling from the corner of a mouth filled with mostly, gnarled teeth. His ratty robe concealed the rusted hunting knife tucked into the waistband of his pajamas, and at his heels, a dog followed him.

Into the darkness he stepped out, his porch lights doing little to help him see. Not that it mattered, he just wanted to scare the source of the noise. He was particular about his space, possessive of his town.

“Dem got-damn aliens,” He muttered, stepping onto the short stretch of concrete where the grass met asphalt. “Never leaving me in peace.”

There was a sudden flooding of light, and then Moisely felt tremendous pain and the wind was knocked out of him. He was splayed out on the asphalt, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear his dog barking, and a car speeding off into the night.

“Toby,” He wheezed, and he heard a whimper before there was a tremendous weight, a searing pain in his leg and chest, and then the quiet release that death brings.

* * *

Scully arrived at the office at around 11:30am, and when she opened the door to the office, she almost immediately wanted to back out. The office was the usual dimly lit, lonely space it always had been, but two things struck her: Mulder’s absence from it and the various model cars that sat atop Mulder’s desk. 

They were all classic cars, like the 1955 Silver Porsche Spyder perched near his desk calendar, the 1965 Navy AC Shelby Cobra sitting by the photo he had of his sister, the 1965 Silver Aston Martin DB5 that was balanced precariously on the edge of the already somewhat crowded desk, or his favorite (assuming as much because of the position) the 1968 Green Ford Mustang GT Fastback which was near his nameplate. There were a couple more she didn’t recognize, but the others, like the 1969 Orange Dodge Charger, which was on the filing cabinet, or the 1961 Red Ferrari 250 GT California Spyder which was by the phone, sat in other places.

“Mulder?” Her voice did not carry because of the clutter but nonetheless, Mulder came out from the end of the room that was designated as her area. All her scientific instruments, like the electron microscope, a computer, a couple of empty Erlenmeyer flasks, and other materials related to the health profession were neatly stored back there.

“Hey, Scully.” Mulder greeted her with a grin that seemed as though he had not seen her for ages, although it had only been two days. He was carrying in his arms a box with some files in them.

"What’s with the auto show?“ Scully made a roundabout motion to the cars that had inhabited the office.

"Oh, right. It all has to do with our case,” He said, putting the box down in an empty chair and indicating that she should sit in his chair. She hesitated to sit because she only did so when he was not there, but when he insisted, she eased into the large chair and gave an involuntary sigh of relief. Well, _it was_ a nice chair. The action elicited a short, but friendly laugh from Mulder who continued, “Our victim, Richard Moisely, was for all intents and purposes, hit by a car.”

“So why is this an X-File?” Scully asked, although she already knew Mulder was not going to be straightforward about it and make her dance for it. As he handed her the file, she looked through it. While she did that, he set up the slide projector.

“Where is the screen… Oh here.” He muttered to himself, as he set the screen up haphazardly. Scully glanced over and watched as he worked to get the screen open. She smiled despite herself; there was an ungainliness about the way he moved, that she realized was not immediately obvious to him, but perhaps to everyone else who encountered him. She considered him in parts usually but now she took the time to consider him in whole; his hair which was unkempt, his tie which did not match his suit, his slacks which had specks of lint here and there, his shoes, which were scuffed, his sleeves which were rolled back casually; they were all pieces that fit together to make a picture of her partner.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it.” He said, moving to get the projector started. She shifted her attention to the screen and began to watch as the projector started the familiar hum and click as he went through the slides.

“Our victim, 54-year-old Richard Moisely, was killed by a car in Francon, Kansas,” Mulder started, pausing to let Scully get a good look at the body.

He watched as she leaned forward in her seat. There was a sort of cold, professional manner about her that translated into everything she did, but it belied the grace that she possessed; the way her hands moved when she was performing an autopsy, the way she cut across the office in her heels, the way her voice trembled when it got low, and the way her hair fell into her eyes.

There was a short silence in which Mulder realized she had given her assessment and was waiting for him to continue. She shot him a curious look, but he continued,

“Now, you’re probably wondering why this is an X-File…”

“–Actually, that’s exactly what I just asked you.” Scully pointed out, and Mulder recovered with a nervous smile.

“It was reported that this car had no driver. When they recovered it, there was no indication anyone had been inside, nor has anyone reported seeing someone behind the wheel.”

“What kind of car was it?” Scully asked, and Mulder glanced down at his notes, looking for this information, which apparently, Scully thought was vital.

“A 1958 Plymouth Fury. Does that mean something to you?”

“It doesn’t to you?”

Mulder glanced at his notes and frowned. She knew something he didn’t. Normally, it didn’t bother Mulder—it shouldn’t have bothered Mulder, but her tone… something about the way it carefully skirted the line between derision and disbelief made him feel bad.

“No, not in particular…”

“It’s the car from the book and the movie, _Christine_, but I thought you would know since most, if not all these cars you have on your desk and around the office are from different films or shows. I just thought it was a little _too_ coincidental that a case featuring a homicidal car without a driver would feature the car from a movie of the exact same premise. But, as you know, cars don’t drive themselves. It’s not possible. Perhaps a brick was used on the accelerator to hold it down?” Scully explained, closing the case file and putting it on the corner of Mulder’s desk.

“Some of these cars I picked because they just looked cool,” Mulder murmured, but in a much more confident tone, he tackled her theory with, “The first thing the officers on the scene did was check for any interference, and guess what they found?”

“Faulty wiring?”

“No, ectoplasm.” Mulder finished, looking expectantly at Scully for her response. She turned to one of the cabinets off to the side and picked up on of the model cars.

“Well, then you know how the saying goes,” She joked, holding up a model of the Ecto-1.

“Yeah, ‘who ya gonna call?’ Very funny. That one is mine though, so you can just put it back. Now I know that you’re thinking that this is a bunch of bull, but it’s actually the fourth one of its kind,” Mulder said, going over to the cabinet and picking out a couple more folders. “Here’s one from July, another in at the end of June, and the one that kicked this off, at the beginning of June. Never the same car. Always a car that is very distinctive.”

“Can I see?” Scully asked, and Mulder handed over the folders, watching as she looked through the files. To Mulder, she seemed excited, a little more than she usually was. He hadn’t known her to be much of a car enthusiast, but it was clear that she had more than just a professional interest in this.

“Something I’m missing?”

“All of these cars are famous for being featured in a movie… except for this one,” Scully said, removing a picture of a small looking Porsche. “This one was not featured in a movie, but it has killed someone, though not purposely, or maliciously.”

“Okay,” Mulder said, looking the picture over before tucking it back into the folder. “I would probably want my car to kill me too if I used red upholstery for it. I’m glad that I can count on your expert opinion then.”

Scully gave Mulder a mysterious smile that lasted only briefly, before she regarded the files before her.

“So, when do we go to Kansas?” She asked, closing the files and collecting them in her lap.

“I think tomorrow sounds good.”


End file.
